The Lord Soul
The Lord Soul is a story written by Haras, and is based off the lore of the game Dark Souls, which is a dark fantasy RPG. Author's note: I recommend to brush up on some Dark Souls lore, because this story will leave you behind if you don't. : "There is an old saying in my family... 'Thou who art undead art chosen. In thine exodus from the Undead Asylum, maketh pilgrimage to the Land of the Lords. When thou hast ringeth the Bells of Awakening, the Fate of the Undead, thou shalt know." Chapter I A stretching, dark hallway... filled with dejection. The weeps of Hollows bounce off the damp walls, as they know that their salvation is but a dream. The watered-down mortar that holds together the stone appears ready to join in the wailing. Light is only sustained by the retired torches, hung on sconces that have been painted with rust. The faint sound of a free-falling water droplet is the only noise to expect in this seemingly-desolate corner of the Earth. Down the halls, one will walk. A dead-end, containing all but just one cell... a very special one, indeed. This is the cell of a man who may have the power to rewrite the entirety of Lordran, with his journey. The cell is adorned with chains, and nothing else to offer. There are rusty metal bars to offer the inhabitant but a tease of what they yearn for. A harsh whisper rebounds among the cell, "Remember your name... you are William... William. Wi-wi-wil-" Said the man, struggling to barely utter a syllable of his own name. He wore a ragged brown cloak, extending from his ankles all the way up to his face with a hood to finish off his covering. He was pale from a lack of sunlight. His brown hair simply resided in the cloak of the aforementioned color. "C-count. You know your numbers, right? One, two, three, f-f-f-four... f-f-fi-fi-fiii-" Barely holding onto his sanity. William sobbed miserably. WIlliam is an undead. Undead are humans who are branded with the Darksign, a somewhat-plague after the failed attempts of the Lords rekindling the First Flame. The undead are cursed with the task of acquiring the precious particles of Humanity. Humanity are sprites that keep the being motivated to live. Without this, and without a purpose to continue, they will slowly fall into the grasp of pure insanity, losing themselves. They become Hollowed. Hollows have no though process, but to kill. Kill all that stands in their way. Violence, anguish, absolute Hell-on-Earth. "T-te-te-ten..." William barely managed to speak, as if the words were dancing further away from his mind, away from the vocal cords producing them. It was as though his sanity ''desired ''to achieve a desolate nature. Suddenly, William heard a noise. The noise sounded like a pitter-patter above the ceiling. Before he knew it, a Hollowed body had been cast into his cell, with what appeared to be a key. A key to unlock this wretched hovel! William darted his head upward, and noticed a figure, whom he quickly pointed out to be a man. The man was in fine steel armor, with a silver gleaming to it. He was a in knight's armor. A point forward, with a slit to see through with his pair of eyes. Elegant arm-guards, along with grieves to compliment it. The knight also possessed leather gloves and boots in his attire. A deep blue tunic was also adorned on him, with a red trim. It had a symbol in the center, presumably from his homeland. A shield was on his back, though William couldn't pinpoint its details. The man simply looked at William, and said one phrase, "Try, my friend." The mysterious knight then marched off across the roof of the Undead Asylum. Chapter II Upon closer inspection, William found a rusty dagger in the pockets of the body. He also dug around and found a black-and-white sprite of Humanity. The Humanity was flowing freely in a spiral, accepting no one's influence on it. It had a faint glowing, along with a distant hum to it. William held it in his hands... he then crushed it in his palms. The Humanity's spiraling motion quickly sped up, and disintegrated into particles of gray, and quickly flew into William's chest, absorbed by his being. His sanity was sated. William lowered his cloak's hood, and took grasp of the shoddy dagger. He then took the key, and inhaled a deep breath of hope. He turned the key in the lock, hearing the tumblers fall... and he stepped out into the hallway. William looked around, only to see Hollows against the walls, sobbing as previously described, with no hope of salvation. He felt immense pity for them, as he understood their pain. He felt blessed that this knight had offered him his own freedom. Taking his first step, William heard the splash of the unknown .liquid, likely water, hit the floor. He took his second, third, fourth, fifth, six... he observed the depressing atmosphere of his previous home of what felt like a millennium. At the end of the hall, William saw an opening archway, containing a dark red ladder; it yearned to be scaled, as it once was many years ago. William walked up to the ladder, splashing the shallow water with his feet as he traversed forward. Looking at the ladder, William felt a rush of unbridled freedom. He began to scale the ladder, hearing the clinking of his feet hitting the rungs. Eventually, William reached the top. He grunted as the shining light struck his eyes. Stepping onto the husk of grass, noticing something in the distance. Still blinded by the light, William stepped forward. Reaching the object, it appeared to be something of great importance: a bonfire. The Undead view bonfires with great veneration, as they serve as a resting point. One may stoke an undisturbed bonfire, to light it. When lit, a bonfire will be a place for an undead to gather their thoughts. Once mustering their energy, the Undead must continue their journey. William recognized the bonfire upon instinct, and stoked it with with coiled sword that sprouted out from it, disrupting the ancient ash it was buried in. The dwindling flame soon shot to life, and began to gently pulsate a miniscule flame. Sitting down to gather his breath, William felt himself becoming invigorated by the fire. He stared into it, realizing his purpose: to escape the Northern Undead Asylum. "I must escape this heinous prison... I will live another day.", he said to himself. Standing up slowly, the newly bequeathed energy surged within William. It invigorated a sensation of determination. William traisped towards two larage doors that were a few yards from the bonfire, ready to face the world. Chapter III As he approached the immaculate stone doors, William heared a guttural roar from the other side. William knew a beast must be slain on the other side. Taking the dagger he found off of the body, William clenched it tightly, and confidently. William grabbed each door with an individual hand, and pushed them firmly. As he walked in, William noticed he had enetered an ancient chapel. The gray stone chisled pillars looked like they held up the roof in agony, but pushed onwards. There was also cracked stone tile, with mortar seperating each individual tile into a grid. There were several menial pews that were caked in dust, looking ready to disintegrate. --- The first thing William gazed upon was a gargantuan wolf-like beast. The beast was bipedal, and stood at least eight feet tall. With coarse brown fur, littered with filth. The snout of the beast was covered in slobber, and it was clearly in desire for bloodshed. The teeth and claws were all a deep tinge of yellow. William observed as every time it exhaled, the beast's breath was a visible mist. The beast once again let out a guttural roar, which reverberated against the walls of the chapel. William drew the dagger, and looked up at the beast that stood a few meters from him. The beast bellowed, and lunged at William. William stepped out of the way, and went in to stab at the beast. It was a success, he stabbed it within its abdomen, drawing out a gleaming red blade. The beast grunted, trying to discreetly endure the pain. William recognized it was going to take more than a stab to the abdomen to slay the wolf beast. William kept dodging the beast's swipes, bites, and lunges. Eventually, he gained the upper hand. William rolled between its legs, and cut jagged through its leg with his rusty dagger once he reached the other side. The wolf screeched in pain, and fell to his knees. William recognized this as an oppurtunity to strike once again. William climbed up its back, and immediately started stabbing it in the shoulder area, with all of his might. William grunted and screamed, as he was determined to plunge his knife into the wolf-like terror. The wolf let out one final scream in pain, and fell over onto the ground. Blood quickly began to spill out onto the ground, and filled the mortar between the tiles. William stood there exhausted, panting heavily. He eventually broke out into a laughter, as he saw the wolf's body begin to disintegrate into nothing, giving off a shimmering noise. William felt his power growing, as he absorbed the souls from the slain beast. Souls are a form of currency. Souls are acquired from pillaging off of dead hollows, or through slaying someone or something. The amount of souls one has measures their strength, additionally. William saw a key manifesting into existence, where the beast's body once laid. The key's frame was filling in with a magma-orange pattern, until it finally stopped forming. Once finished, it faded into a tarnished copper color. William picked up the key, and knew where it went to: the opposite door, leading out from the Asylum. He took the key, and walked towards the door, putting it into the keyhole. He turned the key, and pushed the large door outward. He stepped slowly out of the chapel, into the new terrain. Chapter IV Category:Action/Adventure Category:RPG